


only fools fall in

by morallyambiguous



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Time, Intimacy, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 13:16:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morallyambiguous/pseuds/morallyambiguous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles’ virginity has become a liability, and Scott eases him through getting him through it in the early morning hours after the full moon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	only fools fall in

**Author's Note:**

> Genre: Friendship/Romance
> 
> Prompt: In which, after stiles comes up that conclusion that only virgins are being killed, he asks Scott to take his virginity, because he feels that Scott is the only one he can truly trust. And add some Fluff? Let there be feelings and not only sex. Please write this. And make it kinda long if you have time. Sorry I'm asking for a lot but I really am feeling this prompt. Thanks, love!

Stiles isn’t talking.  It’s not normal, not natural, and frankly, the slightest bit distressing.  He’s just staring out at the road and driving, focused only on the road because he doesn’t want to think about something else.  Scott knows the look, and he knows that it’s only a matter of time before Stiles breaks and starts talking about what’s on his mind.  Scott can wait.  The silence is almost welcome after the night that they’ve had. 

The misty light of dawn makes Beacon Hills look so much more like the sleepy town that he once thought it was than what he’s been living the past twenty four hours that a startled chuckle is pulled out of him.

Stiles’ knuckles turn white against the wheel.

Scott stops laughing.  Stiles pulls up to his driveway, and they get out.  Stiles walks him to his door because he’s a cop’s kid and that kind of behavior is natural to him.  He turns to leave but Scott grabs his wrist.

“Hey, come on in.  We’ve got coffee and my mom made enchiladas yesterday.”  Stiles relaxes a little under his hand.  Not enough, because he’s still not talking, but Scott can wait, Scott is used to being the patient one in this relationship.

He starts the pot and puts the enchiladas in the microwave, and looks at Stiles curled up on his mother’s favorite armchair with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.  And Scott thinks _I love this boy._ And it’s not anything new, because he can’t remember a time when he and Stiles didn’t love each other, but right now is a hell of a reminder.

So he does something that they haven’t done since middle school.

They’re too big to sit next to each other on the chair now, but Scott can wrap both himself and the blanket around Stiles.  It’s a tight fit, but it is warm and cozy, and comforting and all those things that they both need right now.

“Hey,” he breathes against Stiles’ ear.

Stiles pulls himself in closer to Scott.  “Hey.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”  His voice can’t be louder than a whisper, but it feels right to be quiet, like they’re in their own little world where they’re just Scott and Stiles, no Derek, werewolves, and no human sacrifices.

Stiles curls further into Scott like if he gets close enough, all his problems will be magically solved.

“You totally want to talk about it, dude.”

Stiles glowers up at him from under newly grown fringe.  Scott raises an eyebrow.

“I…  yeah.”  Stiles says, and he just goes lax around Scott, muscles relaxing all in one fell swoop.

“He’s going after virgins.  And I really don’t want to die.  Who’s gonna look out for you and my dad?”  His voice is small, completely unlike Stiles, but it’s been a long year, and it’s looking to be a lot longer.

“Yeah, so we just solve the problem.”  Scott says.

“S’not that easy, Scott, no one wants to sleep with me.  Don’t act like I haven’t tried.”  Stiles mumbles against his chest.

“Hey, hey, no need to get snippy with me.  They’re stupid to not want you.”  Scott reassures Stiles.

“I’m not a chick on Lifetime feeling bad about herself Scott, I know I’m hot, but the time period between everybody else figuring that out and me dying is getting drastically shorter.  No one wants to sleep with me.”  Scott ignores the implied insult, and lets out a small mental cheer in his head for the spark of humor that Stiles let out.  If Stiles can still joke about it, it might not be okay, but they’ll get through it.

“I don’t know why. I would.”

Stiles stops moving completely.  His heart skips a beat even.  “Funny dude.  I’m still a possible candidate for human sacrifice.”  He mutters.  Despite his apparent disbelief, he still hasn’t pulled his head away from Scott’s chest.

“Hey,” he lifts Stiles face up by his chin so that they’re looking at each other.  “I wasn’t kidding dude.”

Stiles gulps air once, twice, and then a third time.  “I…” his heart is beating at a rapid pace, “Would you really?”

Scott looks Stiles straight in the eye.  “Yeah.  Dude, you were my first kiss.”  It’d been such a little thing, an innocent peck of the lips between eight year olds.  “And my second.”  Fifth grade, after he broke his arm.  “And my third.”  Eighth grade after the funeral, Stiles had snuck a bottle of beer from his dad and they’d shared it, and they kissed, and Stiles cried and cried and Scott held them until they both fell asleep.  “And my fourth.”  Freshmen year, such a little thing, excited over their matching schedules, it’d been just a little peck, but to Scott, it still counted.

“I,” Stiles seems to be at loss for words.  “We never really talked about it.”  He says.

“Didn’t think we had to.”  Scott shrugs.

Stiles thumps his chest.  “Well we did, so shame on you.”

Scott leans in close and pecks Stiles on the lips.  “Do we still need to?”  Their faces are so close that Scott can feel Stiles eyelashes brush against his.

Stiles doesn’t say anything, but he does look at Scott’s lips, which says more than enough.  He can wait for Stiles to kiss him though; he’s used to being the patient one in their relationship.

And Stiles does kiss him, an insistent pressure against his lips that feels familiar and new at the same time.

He pulls Stiles in close, and thinks that maybe they shouldn’t be doing this in his mother’s favorite chair.  “I’m not doing this here.”  He says, standing up and pulling Stiles behind him and up the stairs to his room.  His lips are red and his cheeks are flushed and Scott thinks _I love this boy_.

They fall onto his bed with all the recklessness of two teenage boys so in love that it’s hard to see straight.  They kiss slowly though, learning the shape of each other’s lips and mouths, reacquainting themselves with each other’s bodies.

Scott’s shirt comes off at some point and Stiles smiles the smile of someone who’s won some sort of victory.  

Scott snorts and pins Stiles to the bed.  “You are wearing too many clothes.”  He grabs the edge of Stiles’s shirt, placing small kisses along his torso along the way.  Stiles laughs as he peppers them across his ribcage and down his sides.

The early morning sunlight makes them both glow golden as it filters through Scott’s window, but Scott doesn’t pay attention as he’s pulled back up against Stiles’s mouth, grinning and kissing him while Stiles pretends to grumble about Scott’s “ridiculous body, I saw you eat two whole pizzas last week, man.”

Scott starts his hips in a slow roll, well aware of how that makes Stiles gasp and cling to him.  Stiles gasps against the shell of his ear.  “At least take your pants off, dude.”  Scott stops, but only just long enough to throw them in the vague direction of his hamper.  Stiles does the same behind him, and then they’re on each other again.

Teasing tender touches turn more solid, more substantial as more clothes come off until there’s nothing between them but skin, and if they had time Scott would burrow himself in Stiles and never leave, create a world where just the two of them exist, but they don’t have time for that, barely have time for this.

So he grasps the both of them and kisses the gasp out of Stiles’ mouth as his hips start a rolling rhythm that has both of them gasping into each other’s mouths and hushing each other with lips pressed soft and hard against each other.  Not trying to keep each other quiet for anyone overhearing, but for the weight of the moment.

Stiles trembles in his hand and against his body, long lines of pale skin going taught against Scott as he falls over the edge, biting Scott’s shoulder to stifle his cry and taking Scott with him.  His vision blurs for a second and he’s struck breathless, because his mind is filled with _ilovethisboyandiwanthimtobesafeforeverandlivewithmeforeverand **ilovethisboy**_ as his body torques and Stiles suddenly isn’t the only one making a mess of himself.

He catches his breath in the hollow of Stiles’ neck where he smells like _StilesandScott_ and _ScottandStiles_ and home. 

Stiles lazily pushes him off and Scott lets himself be rolled off of Stiles, turning on his side and looking at Stiles who smiles at him, relaxed and happy and looking for the first time in months like the boy Scott remembers stuffing seven oreos in his mouth and nearly choking because he just wanted to see how many he could fit.

“Hey.”  Scott says.

Stiles smiles at him, stupid and easy like they’re kids again.  “Hey.”

“Do we need to talk about this?”  Scott asks.

Stiles shrugs.  “When you and Allison get back together, you should probably tell her that I expect her to share.”

Scott laughs.

“Now come on,” Stiles says sitting up.  The morning light surrounds him like a halo and Scott just wants to lay there in bed all day, but he knows they can’t.

“You take first shower.”  He says, shoving at Stiles.  “You smell.”

Stiles rolls his eyes.  “Whatever, dude.”

Scott smiles and goes down stairs to reheat the coffee and enchiladas.

Stiles and Scott eat enchiladas for breakfast and it’s just like before this whole werewolf mess, Scott thinks, and then Stiles sends him a wry little grin and leans up to peck his lips before stealing the last bite of his enchilada.  Scott wrestles him to get back at him and Stiles is laughing so hard he almost cries before Scott kisses him back, slow and sweet, and then proceeds to down the last of Stiles’ coffee.  Stiles scowls but can’t do anything about it from under Scott.  It’s just like before this whole werewolf mess, Scott thinks as he looks at Stiles’ fake pout, but it’s so much better.


End file.
